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Stephanie Lyness

Peaches are abundant in the area around Piacenza. My mom's mother, Nonna Stella, used to use them in this traditional dish during the months when the peaches were at their best. In fact, my mom likes to tell me how, when she was pregnant, she ate them nonstop.
The peaches should be very ripe and juicy. If they're not so juicy, you may need to chop an extra peach half for the filling, to add a little moisture. Make amaretti crumbs by pulsing the cookies in a food processor, or putting them in a resealable plastic bag, and crushing them with a rolling pin or a meat mallet.

My mom used to make this yummy, Parmesan-and-broccoli-flecked pasta a lot when we were growing up because it was a relatively painless way to get us kids to eat broccoli. And when I went to college, she packed up the recipe for me as part of a set of family recipes that she thought would be easy enough for me to make in my new apartment. This was one of the first dishes I had the courage to cook on my own, and it became a staple of my college years.
But leaving home isn't so easy. I remember the first time I set out to cook this in my new life. It wasn't until I was at the grocery store with recipe in hand that I realized that I couldn't actually _read_ it: I never could read my mom's handwriting—I'm forever calling her up to ask her to translate her scrawl. But there I was, first time out, walking up to strangers in the supermarket asking, "Can _you_ read this?"
These days, my friends have a habit of calling _me_ from the supermarket at five p.m., looking for a suggestion for dinner. This is the recipe I give them because it's completely easy and if it's five o'clock and you're still in the supermarket, you can _still_ be eating by six fifteen (assuming you don't live too far away).
Note that the broccoli cooks long enough to turn soft and buttery. When you work it all together with your wooden spoon—broccoli, olive oil, and cheese—the broccoli turns into the sauce.
Use a colander with fairly small holes (or a mesh strainer) so that the broccoli buds don't escape into the sink when you drain the pasta.

My dad brought the family to the States when I was five. Before we moved, he came over to New York on his own to look for a house. One night, as he tells the story, he was playing poker with some guys in one of the players' apartments in Manhattan. They're all sitting around the table, and one fellow says, "What are you doing here?"
"I've got a wife and children in Italy and I'm looking for a place to live."
"I've got a nice piece of property in New Jersey," the fellow says. "I've been promoted, and I have to move and sell the property."
"Well, I'll go over and take a look at it," says my dad. It was a nice piece of land. He bought it and built a house on it, and I grew up there. The name of the fellow who sold it to him was Joe Namath.
We were lucky in that many of our friends from Italy also moved into our neighborhood in New Jersey. We all lived within about five miles of one another. My mom's friend Gabriella lived across the street. She's a fabulous cook. I tasted this lemony rosemary-and-sage chicken stew at her house one night and promptly asked her to show me how to make it. It's now a staple in my own kitchen. Serve it with rice to soak up the sauce, or with roasted potatoes.

_Jhinga Mangaloree_
This dish is from the southern Indian coastal state of Karnataka, where seafood is an important part of the diet. The shrimp has extraordinary flavor. I sometimes vary the recipe by adding 1 1/2 tablespoons unsweetened shredded coconut along with the mustard seeds, or 2 to 6 chopped small fresh green chiles with the scallion. Serve with green chutney or lemon wedges, lemon rice, and a raita.